Running

     When I woke up this morning there was a moment when I thought that I would not run, that instead I would wear jeans and a long sleeved shirt and shiver in the dark rainy cool. Though what I would have done with myself besides shiver I don't know. Running in kind of my salvation from being bogged down with free time around here.

     But the air, though misty and soft, was warm, and the sky was gray, but not dripping. So I put on my shoes and took off, heading for the graveyard.

   
     The benefits of the graveyard run are as follows: fairly flat, save for a memorable slow slope at the beginning and an even more remarkable one after the turn around point. Some traffic at the start, but since the bulk of the run is done in the graveyard the car-related-worries of a typical suburban Philly run are definitely lower. The graveyard is beautiful too, all flat sloping green lawns and beautiful sycamore and oak trees. Very old world Philly, back when Glenside was part of the country, fringing along the nicer Irish settlement.

     Of course, depressingly, the relative isolation means I have to maintain a heightened state of alert regarding any suspicious persons in the vicinity. But you pick your poison and there are definitely more cars than there are creepers in my home town.

     I love the days when you think you are not going to run, but then you decide to do it and you are rewarded by feeling like you could run for ever. The weather was perfect, damp and cool, which for this season is a relief instead of a burden. Through the wooded part of the run a silvery mist hung between the trees, turning the leaves a brilliant apple green and making the silvery gray-green lichen on the bark light up like lanterns. That is my favorite part of the woods in the rain, at first glance it seems dull and washed out, but then parts of it almost glow, each individual leaf dripping beads of water that catch the color around them. The normally bright colors, the reds and fuchsias are dulled, and the background colors, the shy colors, are vibrant and beautiful. It is the world in negative, in reverse.

     This quieted and personal world made for a dreamless, effortless run. My legs felt peaceful and well timed, muscles springing and coiling, releasing and coiling again, flexible and resilient. I can always tell when I am exhausted because my muscles feel like bricks, reluctant to relax, reluctant to tighten. When I am not exhausted they are smooth and springy, strong and seemingly tireless. My run today made me realize how exhausted I was when I began this summer. Every run I took made me feel like I was running in sand. But of course, when that's the norm, you don't notice.

     I noticed today, and now that I am back the sun is beginning to peek through the clouds. But I don't regret not waiting to run. I like to walk in sun, but run in the shade.